9. Kael

9

KAEL

This book is amazing, and I'm fully immersed in the story, so I nearly jump out of my skin when the passenger side door is almost torn from the hinges.

Paige gets into the car with a huff.

I put the book away. I started it when she walked inside her friend's house and was able to read almost the whole thing as I waited for her.

I grimace. "Oh, princess, you reek of vodka."

"So what?" There's only a slight slur in her voice, but from the wafting alcohol scent, they must have had a few drinks, to put it mildly. "I have you to drive me home. I'd usually just walk."

"Not now, you won't. Not like that." I scoff as I start the car to drive the short distance back to her house. "And I'm not judging. I just think vodka is the worst choice of liquor."

She looks over at me. "What's your drink of choice?"

"Tequila with salt and an orange slice."

"An orange slice? Not a lime?"

" Never a lime." I shudder at the thought of it.

"Don't tell me you don't like lime. That cuts out so many things! Like guacamole! And margaritas! And you like tequila!"

"Not margaritas. I actually like the taste of the liquor, not a bunch of mix."

"That's gross. You're gross."

I park the car and turn off the engine. "Whatever you say, little princess."

I expect her to lash out, bite my head off and tell me not to call her that again, but she doesn't.

She opens her door, gets out of the car, and heads to the front door, stumbling a bit as she gets to the doorway.

I follow closely behind her. "Have you eaten anything but breakfast today?"

Paige shakes her head.

I groan and take her inside, sitting her down at the breakfast nook and making her a sandwich.

"That's why you're drunk," I scold her. "You have to actually have something on your stomach before taking shots."

"Wasn't shots." She frowns. "Just a couple of vodkas with orange juice."

"More vodka than juice, I bet."

She just sits there, silent and unmoving, and I glare at her, jerking my head.

"Take a bite."

She does, and I give her a smile, showing my teeth. "Good girl."

Paige freezes for a split second when I say that, but she continues to eat, finishing the sandwich and then sighing.

"That's better. You were right."

"Say it again," I joke, and she chuckles.

"I'm going to lie down for a while."

It's not even dusk yet, but she hasn't been sleeping, and I haven't finished my workout, so I won't look a gift horse in the teeth.

I clean up the kitchen after she leaves the room, knowing that she probably has a maid. The thing is, my mother worked as maid for a while, and so I have utmost respect for them.

I finally trail into the living room, which has plenty of open space because Paige only has a loveseat and a sectional on opposite sides of the big room.

Why would a little woman like her need so much space? It's almost wasteful how the Burkes spend money.

I'm doing pretty well for myself, having saved up a big nest egg, but I can't imagine being able to buy a brownstone like this without even blinking.

But the Burkes have always been a lot different than the Sullivans, and Paige is probably the most obvious example.

I stand in the middle of the room, where it's nice and spacy, and I kneel down on the floor and sit on my feet. I bow, nose to the floor arms stretched above my head, and then sit back on my feet.

My hands are on my knees as I close my eyes.

I meditate for a couple of minutes before bowing again and getting up to perform a series of katas.

The flow of the movements from kick to punch to block is a dance I'm in love with, and it brings me peace.

Martial arts are almost a safe haven for me, and a way to empty my mind and escape reality.

When I'm done, I do a bit of cardio, with ab work and push-ups.

Tomorrow, I'm going to get this all done before she gets up, because as I get into the shower, my body aches from the split workout .

Hot water runs down my body, and I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation as my muscles relax.

A picture of Paige pops into my head, with those duck shorts, and my body immediately responds.

My eyes fly open.

What the feck was that?

There's no way that my body in any way reacts to thoughts of Paige in those ridiculous shorts, right?

Paige's a bubbly brat that couldn't be more my opposite if she tried. That annoying bubbly good mood and constant cheer drain anyone. And that' a scientific fact, I'm not just being an asshole.

Who can stand being like that or around someone like that twenty-four seven?

I don't think even she can stand herself sometimes.

However, since I moved in here, she's not the same person she was before.

She looks like a dimmed version of herself. More serious, more…sad.

Sure, she's still a brat and deserves a spanking. Feck if my body doesn't react again at the thought of having her over my knees, ass up, my hand on her as I teach her to be a good girl.

I take a deep breath, willing my erection to go down. My hand reaches the nozzle, and I turn off the hot water, leaving only the cold water on.

This is so wrong.

And I refuse to give into the instinct of reaching for my cock and stroking myself to completion. Not when Paige is in my head, rent free.

When my body finally calms down enough, I turn off the water and get out of the shower, toweling myself dry.

I put on some boxer briefs and lie down .

The bed in the guestroom is huge and extremely comfortable.

I push all thoughts of Paige out of my mind. Paige and my bed are two ships that will never cross in the same ocean.

Closing my eyes, I decide to meditate to calm myself enough to fall asleep.

Next thing I know, a high-pitched scream forces my eyes open as my brain tries to wake up from sleep.

When did I even fall asleep?

Acting on instinct alone, I bound up the stairs after grabbing my gun from the nightstand.

I come around the corner of the hallway with my gun drawn and pointing forward as Paige walks out into the hallway.

She screeches and backtracks, almost falling on her ass. "What is it with you and your habit of pointing a fucking gun at me?"

I lower it, all the breath going out of my body in a rush. "Are you okay? You screamed."

"No, I didn't." Her eyes go to the wall behind me.

I glare at her.

"Yes, you fecking did. You screamed, so I came running. That's what I'm here for."

She hugs herself, her hands on her arms, rubbing up and down as if to warm herself. "I… I had a nightmare, okay?"

I frown. "You're still having nightmares about?—"

"Yeah, so? Go ahead, call me a weak little princess if you want."

"I would never call you weak." My eyes are laser-focused on her, my fists clenched. "You were attacked. Of course, you're going to feel a certain way about it. "

She blinks at me, and her green eyes fill with tears.

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, but nothing comes out. Not even a sigh.

Is she even breathing?

"It's all right," I murmur. "Just take a few deep breaths. Keep your chin up, little princess."

Her lip trembles slightly.

Only the slight movement of her hair lets me know she nodded.

She keeps her eyes on me as her chest goes up with a deep breath.

"Let it out slowly, and then do it again."

A stronger nod this time, as she slowly releases the air, and her chest comes down before she inhales again.

We do this a few more times before her chin stops shaking.

"Good." I nod.

She does it once more for good measure.

"I'm okay," she whispers. "I'm going back to bed."

I look at her for a long moment, and then nod slowly, walking back down the stairs. I try not to think about her wide green eyes, her long dark lashes. I try not to think about her pretty face, how sad it had looked. How haunted.

Maybe Paige Burke drives me nuts, but she doesn't deserve what happened to her.

Feck Niall Murphy.

But I need to watch myself more around her. Nothing good will come from looking at her differently.

She's still my best friend's baby sister, and I have a job to do. Keep my eye on her and my hands off her.

Easy enough to understand.

Besides, I can't afford to be distracted. Not when it comes to her safety.

Not even by her.